All language subtitles for Gra.S01E01.720p.WEB.H264

- See you tomorrow.
- Thanks, Jenny.

- Hey!
- Hey!

Don't make a pest of yourself.

- No! I'm glad you're here.

- Hey! Hi, Miss Lester.
- Hey!

I need your help
with something.

- Okay.

- Just three.

One...

It's okay, Mittens.

Two... Three.

Thank you.

- How did she hurt her eye?

- Well, the vet said

it was probably a thorn and, um,

she must have wanted
something so badly,

and she jumped
into the rose bush.

- Something like... like a bird?

Exactly.

- We lost another agent today.
The fourth.

This time in Lebanon.

A dead drop between Cerberus
and Korean intelligence.

We have no security footage,
no suspects. No leads.

We have a mole in Cerberus.

If we don't catch 'em
we'll have bigger problems

than a couple
of agents executed.

- Mm. Four dead agents
in less than a month.

- If we don't take care of it,

Chase could limit our powers,

strip our autonomy or disband
Cerberus completely.

Why don't we just
subcontract someone from CIA?

- Mm-mm. We let CIA in the door,

we will never get rid of 'em.
- Private contractor then?

Check with Defense.

- What if we bring back Gray?

You're very funny.
We need a real solution.

Christ.

- She was good.
- All she was good at

was murdering people.
Cerberus exists

because she killed her boss.

She's good at disappearing.

Christ, we've been looking
for her for, what? Twenty years?

Have you found her?

- One of my analysts

has some interesting
suggestions.

Beckham's daughter.

Sara.

Sara Beckham.

We're bringing her in.

I need you to be ready
for what comes next.

I know what I'm getting
into when it comes

to Cornelia Gray, sir.

- Step up and put your bag
down on the counter.

Turn around for me.

- Come in.

- Sorry.

- And that's when you decided
to go to Montana.

- I didn't decide.
I boarded a bus headed east.

- Mm-hmm.
Alamogordo bus station.

- Lubbock, Texas. And
then I boarded a connecting bus

to Amarillo and then
rented a car.

- It's all you, Sara.

She wouldn't be here
without you.

A very fine piece of analysis,
if I may say so.

The other two heads are quite
aware of your contribution.

Even Chase Cornet,
very impressed.

Although, I don't know
if you want to be on his radar.

- Well, that sounds like
I'll be blamed

if something goes wrong, sir.
- Absolutely.

- I can't believe
that's really her.

- Oh, yes.
Cornelia Gray in the flesh.

- Should we turn the sound up?
- Oh, don't bother.

It's just the minutiae of being
on the run for 20 years.

Every half hour or so,

they'll try to trip her up
on something she already said.

I prefer to watch
the vocal stress analyzer.

Hm. But, of course,
it's next to pointless

with someone like Cornelia Gray.

- I feel like I've lived
with her for the last six months

while trying to track her down.

Studied every report
of every operation

she was ever involved in
at the agency.

- Not everything she was
involved in is in the report.

- Maybe I just built
her up in my head.

- Are you still confident
she didn't kill your father?

- Hundred percent.

- Your stepmother is convinced.

- Well, she was blinded
by emotion.

- And you're not?
- No.

Evidence proves
she was in the hospital

with her son that night.

It would have been impossible
for her to have slipped away,

gotten across town
and shot my father in time.

I've studied every detail
of that night.

She didn't kill my father.

- Hm.

What do you see
when you look at her?

- I see a woman who's alone
and afraid.

Someone who's worn down
from looking over her shoulder

for the last 20 years.

Whatever she once was, sir,
she's a shadow of that now.

What do you see?

- Hm. I see patience.

- Cornelia.

- Chase.

- Could hardly believe it
when they told me.

I thought I'd, uh,
poke my head in

before they move you to holding.

Did I hear correctly?
A tea shop?

Taking nickels from rustics

for tepid cups of water
and serving sad, old women

yesterday's scones.

- You really capture
the romance.

- Oh, I see. Cornelia Gray,
the romantic.

What an awful life.

- It's called work, Chase.

Something you've never
had to do.

Though it looks like you
still managed to come out

on top, as usual.

- You implying that glad-handing
and family connections

suddenly aren't work?

Please, Cornelia,
don't be a snob.

I only meant you must
have been so bored.

No one around to keep
you on your toes.

- What about you?
- What about me?

I'm an open book.

- Married?

- Once was enough.
Eleven years' worth.

- Least you tried
to make it work.

- Are you kidding?
I tried to make it end.

Eleven years.
She lived with me for two,

slept with me for one.

- Hm.

- Well. I'm glad to see
you after all these years.

Wish there was more
I could do for you.

Knock 'em dead.

Cornelia.

- Tagg?

Where are you? Come on in.

- Hm, such manners.

Still the southern belle.

We'll have to talk this way
for today, I'm afraid.

- You sound old.

That was rude.

I-I still picture you
as a freshman.

- If I'm bleeding
in the picture,

that would make it the day
you threw me down

the steps of the dorm.

- One time.

- I'm here hat in hand.

I need your help.

We have a mole.

- Why would I help you, Tagg?

- I thought you might like
your old life back.

Well... "a" life.

- How long would I have?

- That's up to my associates.

- Who? Chase?

- No. He doesn't have a say.

Wendell Abbott
and Christina Gold.

- I-I don't think so.

- You've been underground
for so long.

I'm sure you'd like
to contact your family.

- If my disappearance made
anyone happy, it was my husband.

Have you been in contact
with John?

Given him the bad news?

- I have a child now.

I had never realized...

the bond.

I don't think that goes away.

And I think you're of an age
where you might want

to rebuild what you lost.

Or, if we tell the truth,
build what you never quite had.

- Are they okay?

- Yes. Your son Ben,
actually...

He's been fighting
to clear your name.

- When I think of
the time I missed, I...

I-I think of the time
I had instead.

Every precious minute.

And I'm thankful, Tagg.

Maybe I didn't deserve
any time at all.

So, really, I've...

I've come out ahead, haven't I?

- Hm.

- Her name's Rose.

She's your granddaughter.

- So, Tessa called again.
Something about florals?

Your stepmom knows
this isn't her wedding, right?

And I got a text from my dad;

said if you change your mind,
the offer's still good.

- He's sweet,
but it's not that far.

I'm fine walking myself
down the aisle.

Besides, my dad taught me
to be independent in every

facet of my life. I think
it's what he would have wanted.

- Ah, I wish he was
here for you.

- Mm-hmm. Yeah. Me, too.

Dial stepmom.

- Finally!

I was just screaming at people

because they say you can't
have flowers

because they might
stain the carpet!

Can you believe it?
A wedding without flowers?

- I'm sure you'll figure it out.

There's something else, though.
You know Mandy?

- Yeah, your little friend
from London?

- Exactly. Her grandmother's
going to be in town.

- Oh, Sara... No.

- I can't not let her bring her.

We can put them on table seven.

- Every addition, you say
put them at table seven.

Just how immense is table seven
in your mind's eye?

Honestly, honey,
I don't want to lecture you,

but if you want to have
a perfect wedding,

you're going to have to start
saying no to some people.

Sorry, Mum! I've got to go.

- All right. I love you.

- There was a faction
in the CIA that thought

that Beckham had turned,

so that's why
there had been leaks.

There were those that thought
Beckham was about to expose you

as the mole...

...so you killed him.

Either way the leaks stopped
when you went underground.

The organization knew steps
had to be taken.

Chase Cornet created
a splinter group within the CIA

called Cerberus.

Three heads:

Wendell Abbott.

Christina Gold.

And myself.

- Abbott?
- Hm.

- That peacock?

Why would Chase pick him?

Gold used to worry me, though.

Always went out of her way
to make people think

she wasn't as smart as she was.

- The heads meet once a week.

We each have our own staff,
our own operations.

- Reporting to Chase?
- No.

Chase funds us through the CIA,

but we're completely autonomous.

Our original function
was to perform

internal investigations
with the right

to investigate someone
as high up as Beckham.

Or Chase Cornet himself.

- Spies spying on spies.

- And the three heads
watching each other.

- It's a paranoiac
hall of mirrors.

Cerberus has a mole.

I'll find him.

Which head's assets
were compromised?

- Hey!

- Sara.

The last time I saw you,

you were a child.

Look at you.

Look at you.

You like it? Tagg dressed me.

They tell me you're the one
who found me.

How'd you do that?

- Standard methods
of narrowing down a search

and then I just looked
for women who seldom, if ever,

went to the doctor.
My stepmother's your age.

- Tessa?

You still keep
in touch with her?

- I never lost touch with her.

I lived in London with my uncle
until he died

and then I was 17
when I moved back here.

Tessa helped me get
into Princeton.

Uh, Tessa thinks
you killed my father.

- Yes. So I've been told.

- Well, she goes
to the doctor...

three, four times a year
and she's in perfect health.

The same with
all of her friends,

but I just thought
that you wouldn't.

If you were desperately ill,
I'd assume you'd go to a clinic,

you'd pay cash instead
of risking digital record

of the scars you accumulated
in your line of work.

- You found me because I didn't
go for regular checkups?

- The final cross-reference
was identifying outlets

with steady orders
of long-fibered black paper

favored in Scherenschnitte.

I don't remember much,
but I remember

you loved doing that.

Your father would be proud.

Your mother, too.

Your real mother.

If you ever feel like it,

I have so many stories
I could tell you.

- Glad to see you two
getting acquainted.

- I recognize those blue eyes.

Weren't they in my bedroom
recently shoving

something into my face.
What was it?

Oh! A rifle.

- Yes, ma'am.
- Gray is going to help us

find the mole in Cerberus.

- Well, if she wants to help us,

she can give us her list
of contacts.

Then we could stick her
in a six-by-nine

and get on with
our investigation.

- All kidding aside,
there's something

so familiar about your face.

You've had four operatives
killed in a month.

The mole could be
anyone in Cerberus.

If I give you my contacts,
they're compromised.

- We'll give you the names
of the agents

and the places
and dates of their captures.

- What were they working on?

- Come on, Cornelia.

I cannot divulge that.

You have enough information
to start.

How does she know you?

- She doesn't. It's a mind game.

I know guys on the team
that picked her up 20 years ago.

That's what makes her
so dangerous.

- The woman was living
and working in the same

community for 15 years.

She had no internet,
no computer, no cell.

- Well, she took your father's
head off with a Remington 700

from a 1,000 meters out.

- They've established
that she didn't.

- Guilty or not,
do you think we can trust her?

- I don't know.

- I understand congratulations
are in order.

Oh.

- Beautiful.

I wish you both
so much joy and happiness.

I hope you're better at
holding on to it than I was.

Still interested
in field work?

- Mm-hmm. Yes. Always.

- I know Gray far too well
to trust her.

I'm putting her up
in my guest house for now.

When she leaves,
Rousseau will follow

to keep track of her progress.

See where she goes,
who she talks to.

I want you with him.

- Am I watching
Gray or Rousseau?

- Very good.

- I hope everything was okay.

Kevin didn't say
we were having a guest.

- It was delicious.
Thank you for having me.

- Well, I think it's time
for Lydia's bath.

Say good night, Lydia.

- I'll see you in a few.

Let's go. Jesus.

- What-what did you say
David does, mm?

- He works in the Pentagon.

- It's hard to imagine.

Twenty years ago
when we were working together...

- And David was in high school?

Hm.

- I was going to say
it's hard to imagine

you with a family and a...

a beautiful house like this.

- Hm.
- How?

- I'm very lucky.

Gold hasn't changed.

Every inch the sweetheart
you love and remember.

Oh. Oh.

And Abbott?

- Has a bullet lodged
in his femur

from an op in 2003,

so they gave him a desk job.

He's been in
a bad mood ever since.

- Hm. Hm...

- Here's the guest house.

After you.

Keys. Guest house. Vehicle.

And, uh, we found these.

- Those were my grandmother's.
- I know.

Just don't go killing
anyone with them.

Okay?

* I just need to know *

- How'd you get here
ahead of me?

I could have sworn you were
on my tail the whole way over.

- Must have been someone else.

- You are so...

Do you just live in the gym
whenever you're not here?

- Not really, no.

- Your arms. Here.

Feel my muscle.
Come on, come on.

Come on, feel it.
Feel it, come on, come on.

Not bad, I think,
for someone like me.

But you? Those arms.

I want you to tell me
what you think, honestly.

Feel my abs. Mm!

Come on. Hit me. Hit me!

- Yeah, some other time.

- Do you want to touch my hand?

My skin is as soft
as rabbit's fur.

Just close your eyes.
I'll prove it to you.

What do you know about Rousseau?

I don't want to come out
and ask, but can you find out

if his mother was a secretary
at the CIA or the bureau?

Nice office, by the way.

- Oh! No, no, no. This is, um...

Th-there's this new analyst,
Connors, and she's always...

Ugh, it's weird.
It's office politics.

- You don't have
your own office?

- No, I just look at data.

- Why haven't they promoted you?

They looked under every rock
in this country for 20 years.

They didn't find me. You did.

I worshipped your father.

- I know.

I have studied every file,
every account,

every record of every op.
I feel like sometimes

I know you better
than I know myself.

- I hope I don't disappoint you.

Cerberus could never
figure out

who Gray's contacts were.
Could be secretaries,

boyfriends, people close
to intel

who fly under the radar.

So, her network
could be anyone.

If it still exists.

- Did your mother used
to work for the CIA?

- Barely knew my mother.

Where does your fiancé work?

- Justice.

- You looking forward
to the wedding?

- Mm. Yes and no.
I don't really like

being the center of attention.

- Prefer to stand back
and watch. I get it, sure.

- Mm-hmm.
- You meet in Washington?

- Princeton. Married?

- No.

Burner phones.

- I'll grab the store records.

- Ma'am?

What's she giving her?
Is that a hand-off?

Could be.

Which one do we follow?

- I'm staying with Gray.

Six o'clock.
Has to be one of hers.

I don't recognize him
from my research on Gray.

So he could
be anyone.

- Shit. It's her
daughter's house.

- Thought her kids
supported her?

- Uh-uh. Just the son.

Shit. She's onto us.

Rose, come finish
your snack, please.

- Sophie.

- What do you want?

- I... I don't really
know what to say.

May I come in?

Can we go
to the playground now?

Will you please...
Please go away?

- We looked at this place
for our wedding reception.

- Expensive.

- My stepmother claims
it's plebeian.

- This is the fourth time
this week.

She sits in a parked car
for half an hour.

She goes in the hotel,
she checks in

under her real name
and she stays? How long?

- Mm. There's no pattern,
like, half hour to an hour.

- We haven't seen a single
person go in or out with her.

Who's she meeting with?

- If she is not fucking with us,

then what is she doing in there?

- I'm in their system.

She's checked in under
Cornelia Gray.

Given her room 802.

- Different room every time.

- Pick her up in the elevator.

Eighth-floor camera.

- As usual,
no one else in sight.

802 is around the corner.
Can you not get that angle?

- Mm... Log says
camera's down for repair.

- She's not screwing us around.
She's trying to run.

- Shit.

Damn it.

You go down. I'm going to go up.

- I can't do what I need
to do with you following me.

You know I'll come back.

I left Ben and Sophie once.
Never again.

- I can't lie for you.

- If you don't let me find
the mole,

you'll never find the person
who killed your father.

- Any sign of her?
- No.

- We finally picked up
her trail.

There's footage of her
passing through

Riga International Airport
ten hours ago.

Took some time to piece
together how she did it.

Two days before she escaped,

she was given room 901 in the,
uh, Wimberly Place hotel.

She used her time in that room
to break a pipe

and flood the place.

The night you lost her,
she requested room 802.

She did not go to room 802.

She knew the room upstairs
would still be empty

while the carpet dried.

She hid in room 901

until the next afternoon.

There was no way
we could have known.

She left the hotel
and retrieved a car

she'd rented under the name
Leslie Stafford

with a stolen driver's licence.

She used the license
to get a rush passport

and then she drove
all the way to Atlanta.

She flew to Paris
as part of a tour group

and then on to Latvia.

Bottoms up.

- And has she gone
underground again?

- She might be looking
for her contact

who can expose the mole.

Either way, we're going
to find the person responsible

for the current leaks.

- And my father's death.

- Yes, of course.

If it makes you feel any better,

Cornelia Gray has spent her life

making people look
in one direction

while she went off in the other.

So, for the next 24 hours,
forget about her.

I believe you have
a wedding to get to.

- I'm so nervous.

- You're taking it.
You look so good.

- It's magnificent.

- Ooh. I promised the florist
I'd approve the bouquet.

- Oh, nonsense!
I'll take care of it.

- Oh, don't worry.
Andy won't see me. It's fine.

Oh!

- Tessa.

- Jesus. Cornelia?

Huh. What rock have you
been keeping yourself under

the past 20 years?

- I had a shop. I sold tea.

- Wherever it was,
I wish you would go back.

You here to see Sara?

- No. I came to see you.

- You kill my husband,
you vanish,

and after all this time,
you come back to ruin

my daughter's wedding day?

- Tessa, you don't care
about Sara.

And we both know you didn't
care about her father.

I just came to give you regards
from a mutual friend in Riga.

Levitsky.

Oh, yes.

Hm. I had a long talk
with Levitsky.

You remember hydrogen cyanide.

I waited 20 years for this.

Twenty years.

- Mom?

Mom?

Ah! Oh my God, help her!

Sara? Sara?!